Empty
by Kipli
Summary: Reed comes back to his quarters after his shift and thinks about his seemingly empty life.


Title: Empty 

Author: Kipli 

Rating: PG 

Summary: Reed comes back to his quarters after his shift and thinks about his seemingly empty life. 

Note: Set roughly some time after "Acquisition" with very slight spoilers. Not in canon with anything else I've written. Extremely light slash. Thank you once again to my lovely gals Ana and Kim for suggestions and encouragement. 

Archive: Yes to Entslash, otherwise ask pretty please. 

Feedback: Any positive suggestions, comments, or questions are always welcome at Kipli16@yahoo.com. 

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the universe. I just live there. 

He walked into his quarters. They were dark, silent, and rather empty. After the door closed behind him, he simply stood there. The stars out light-years beyond the ship shed little light for him. A moonless night on Earth was more bright than the dark, empty room. The only noise he could hear was the constant hum of the warp core. It took him a moment to recognize what the hum was exactly. It had become background noise one hardly noticed after serving aboard the Enterprise for any good length of time. It was a slight curiosity that distracted him for a moment. How odd that he would filter out the low hum for so many months... What other filters did he place on his life? 

Malcolm Reed closed his eyes as he stood in the dark. He let the humming fill his ears and hoped once he opened his eyes again that the noise would also somehow fill the room. Opening his eyes and turning on the light would mean he'd again see his barren, un-lived in quarters. If only he could find them filled with memories and trinkets. If only he could call it a home rather than his quarters. 

A home... Hadn't he always been searching for that? That one place he'd rather never leave? He wasn't altogether sure he'd recognize such a place if he ever did find it, since he'd never gone any where that he had wanted to stay. There had never been any reason to stay. He had never called any place home. 

Once he had moved out, the house his parents' lived in was never called "home". It was simply his "parents' place". His old room had been quickly converted into something new. He thought he recalled hearing it was now a study. He wasn't sure since he had never been back. 

Since joining Starfleet, all of his quarters had looked mostly the same. As empty of personal items as a hotel room. No, more empty, hotel rooms had cheep painting prints on their walls at least. He never decorated. Sometimes a fellow officer would see how barren his quarters were and would get him some sort of trinket or picture. It still didn't mean anything to him. His colleagues rarely had good taste anyway. He would leave the gift where it was simply in case the crew member returned so that he didn't appear ungrateful. A few people had seen his quarters on Enterprise. Sato had commented on the lack of personal items but he had so far brushed her off with his excuse of being too busy to decorate. Truth was his quarters were usually nothing more than a place to sleep and store his clothes. But tonight... tonight it seemed far too empty. 

Slowly Malcolm opened his eyes. Eyes opened or closed, the difference was hardly noticeable. Still now he could make out how bare the quarters were with the shadows playing in the starlight. Well what did he expect? Miracles were not something that happened to him... But then thoughts of his time alone with Commander Tucker on the shuttlepod came to mind. They were both alive when they should have died. Perhaps he should rethink that last thought. Sarcastically he thought about how oh so lucky he was to get a second chance at this fantastic life of his. 

The last week had been hard. He himself had once again failed to save the crew from a threat. He had been knocked out the entire time those aliens had ransacked the ship. Malcolm couldn't stop himself from wishing Tucker had woken him instead of T'Pol. At least then he would have felt like he had done something. 

No one could really understand why it was bothering him so much. They had told him that it was not his fault and that nearly everyone had been knocked out. But it bothered him. He had warned Captain Archer about the possible dangers of beaming the container aboard, but with Tucker's urging, they waved his concerns off as his usual paranoia. He should have protested longer. Perhaps then they would have at least placed the container in a sealed room separated from the rest of the ship. Malcolm frowned. There should be proper protocols for the crew to follow out here. Safety parameters for bringing a foreign object aboard. Having his suggestions simply waved off by his superiors... why did they even keep him around if they weren't going to listen to him? How can he do his job as security officer if they ignore him completely? Then again, not that he was a stunning armory officer. It seemed every other away mission he was getting smacked around. 

He sighed softly and ran a hand over his face as he could just hear his father telling him to stiffen up and be a man. Life was not all chocolate and champagne. Life was hard and brutal, and one should never let his guard down to mope about it. Malcolm gritted his teeth slightly at the tone of his father's voice in his head. What did he care what his father thought of him? The man hardly paid any attention to him at all. Malcolm couldn't believe his parents hadn't known about his posting on the Enterprise. He had told his sister, surely she would have told them. With another sigh he attempted to calm himself down, his body having tensed up at the thought of his father. 

He decided to leave the lights off. Quietly he unzipped his jumpsuit uniform and pulled his arms out of the sleeves before pushing it down over his hips, stepping out of them after kicking off his boots. He walked over in his blue skivvies and socks to the bathroom. It was darker away from the windows. For a moment he stalled, wondering if he should turn the lights on here. But, if he turned on the lights there would only be a far-from-lovely reflection of himself in the bathroom mirror. With all the self contemplation running through his mind, the last thing he needed was to pick apart his physical appearance as well. 

Feeling along the wall with his right hand, Malcolm made his way to the shower. He nearly ran right into the stall but pulled up just in time. Grumbling at himself he bent down to yank off his socks before undressing completely. It took a moment to find the handle to the shower door but then he yanked it open and groped for the shower controls. The sudden burst of water startled him slightly and he was instantly irritated with himself. He was much too jumpy. Setting his jaw, he stepped into the shower and shut the door behind him. He needed to calm down and just forget about his bloody mess of a life. 

The water was a little too hot but he didn't reach for the controls. As the water ran over his skin, he propped himself up against the wall with his arms locked out in front of him. He let his head hang down between his arms and closed his eyes. For the moment he let nothing else exist but the hot water running down him. Malcolm didn't move for a long while as he just let his mind go blank in the darkness around him. 

After a time though his arms began to tire of holding him up and he had to return back to the present. Slowly he straightened up and reached for the shampoo. It only took him a moment to wash his hair and rinse. He took one more second to enjoy the warmth and feel of the water, then switched it off. It was a slight shock to be wet and no longer so warm as before. He fumbled for the latch to the shower and stepped out onto the cold floor, blindly searching for his towel, finding it simply sitting on the sink counter. He dried off as he stepped into the main room and onto carpeting. His quarters were not only quiet, dark, and empty, but now were cold as well. Perhaps the shower had not been a good idea after all... 

He was grateful for the starlight as he searched for a clean pair of boxers in his closet drawers. Pulling a pair on, he looked around for a clean tank but then suddenly remembered he needed to do laundry. There were no clean nightshirts. As he reached into the back of a top drawer for one of his blue uniform undershirts, he stubbed his toe against the lower open drawer. He snapped at the pain, biting his lip, then banged his knee against the desk chair as he stepped back. That did it, he would forget about a damn shirt for tonight. He shoved the drawers closed. The blanket would be warm enough. 

Exhausted, he climbed into bed. It was not late but it had been a long while since he'd felt this tired. The bed was cool against his back but the lingering pain in his toe and knee kept him from thinking about getting back up again for a shirt. With a deep breath he closed his eyes once more that night and attempted not to think about a single thing. 

But not thinking when trying to sleep was an impossibility. His earlier thoughts crept back up on him. The blanket was slowly warming him up but the room was still so... empty. He could feel it around him. Well the room didn't have to be that way, he snapped at himself. He should start a collection. Once or twice he had attempted to collect antique weapons. Perhaps he should start buying them again whenever they happen to interact with any merchants. Not exactly the most unlikely of collections for him but at least it was something. What would the others think of him? He actually smiled a little to himself. They would tease him of course and wonder if there was anything to him that did not involve weaponry. He could just hear Mayweather or Tucker poking a few jokes at him. If only they knew how much he enjoyed their company. Well maybe they did. After being stuck with Tucker in the shuttlepod, they both understood each other more. Some of the odd things Tucker did made some sense now. And Malcolm had meant it when he had told him the crew of the Enterprise was becoming like a family to him. For some reason this crew got to him. He cared about them and it had been a while since that had happened with anyone. It frightened him a little how quickly he had become so attached to this ship and crew. This position wasn't permanent. They would all go their separate ways some day. It surprised him how much he hoped that day would never come. 

His thoughts stopped for a moment. Did that mean he wished to stay here? Call this a home? A home... He ran a hand over his face. Was he so desperate for a home and friends that he would latch onto these people so quickly? Besides, he doubted they felt the same at all. Life here was nice but there were certainly better places to be, weren't there? Places the others would rather stay? Then again... everyone, even Sato, was settling in, making friends, and enjoying the ride. So then why? Why, if he felt a connection with the crew and ship, did he find his room so empty? 

Perhaps it was because he wasn't sharing it with anyone. Romance was not one of his skills. Rather he had acquired his father's inability to connect with anyone on more than a friendship level. Not that he fancied anyone onboard, man or woman. They were all just fine people and crew mates. And hadn't he given up on finding anyone he would be able to connect with deeply? He rolled over onto his side in bed and pulled the blanket closer around him. 

No one onboard could possibly be interested in a relationship with him anyway. He was not "boyfriend material". Few people in his life had attempted to get through to him, to understand him. Sato made some efforts to eat meals with him. She was a lovely woman but did he really want to complicate her life with his own problems? His thoughts drifted to Tucker and Mayweather again. Both men did try to get him to loosen up. Sometimes they were fairly successful. They could make him smile and laugh on occasion. Travis' grin and Trip's eyes... Malcolm shook his head at himself. What was he thinking? Neither man was interested in a romantic relationship with him. He doubted either of them had ever slept with a man before. Then he stopped himself. He didn't really know. Perhaps he was making too harsh of a judgment call. But what could either Trip or Travis see in him? There was nothing about him to get their attention, and certainly nothing to keep it. 

Malcolm sighed. Decorating the quarters might help but that wasn't going to solve anything permanently. Maybe... just perhaps he should attempt to probe into Trip and Travis' love lives a little. Find out if... He frowned at himself, shoving the thoughts harshly aside. Neither would want him. It would be a waste of his time. He forced his mind to be silent, letting his mind go blank and sleep to slowly sneak up on him. After a few minutes, his mind stayed silent and he was able to simply listen to the humming of the warp core again. Soothing... once you noticed it. 

END 


End file.
